Come Back To Me

by Melissa Foster

  Gary didn’t say anything, his knuckles stark white against the green of the belt.

  “He’s been flying for years,” Beau said reassuringly.

  “It’s not him that I’m worried about,” Gary stared into the black night, listening to sand whip against the small window of the helicopter.

  The forty-something pilot, Joe, turned his pitted face and scruffy mane toward them and smiled, his deep voice boomed through the cabin. “We’re in the Green Zone, dude. Nothing to worry about,” he assured them.

  “He just said the sandstorm threw him off course ten minutes ago,” Gary said under his breath. His bloodshot eyes teared up.

  Beau tightened his seat belt and reached for the lump in his pants pocket, feeling mildly better. I’ll come back to you.

  The thick stench of sand heightened the tension in the close quarters. A distant whistling sound suddenly became deafening, milliseconds before impact, ripping the men from their belts and tossing them like rag dolls within the aircraft’s fuselage. The helicopter had spun out of control. Screams of terror filled the fiery compartment. Beau’s eyes locked on Gary’s terrified stare. He’d grabbed hold of Gary’s arm. The second missile had hit the center of the helicopter, ripping Gary’s body backward, sending Beau, and Gary’s arm, slamming against the hard metal of what was left of the helicopter. Blood spewed through the air. Beau fought to stay conscious. A rapid succession of explosions lit up the sky, tearing the helicopter to bits and ravaging Beau’s body. His broken body sailed through the fiery sky. By the time he hit the Earth, a mile and a half from where they would later find the debris, he felt no pain.

  ***

  It seemed a lifetime ago that he’d woken up in the makeshift shelter, Suha hovering over him. A lump formed in his throat as he thought of her nursing him back to health, teaching him Arabic as he taught her English. The thought made him long for his own mother. Beau covered his eyes, promising himself, once again, that he’d make it home. Samira sighed, and Beau looked into her vacant stare. He reached for her hand.

  So strong was the urge to hold Samira, to make the children feel safe and loved, that it sent Beau’s mind into a tailspin, his loyalty divided. He loved his wife, he’d never questioned that love, and he wasn’t questioning it now, though at that very moment he knew that he loved Samira, Athra, Zeid, and Edham. Edham. The boy held a place within Beau’s heart that he could not imagine being filled by anyone else. Beau forced himself to look away. He took Tess’s picture from his pocket, smoothing it across his leg. What kind of man was he, he wondered, to love more than one woman? He battled the dilemma within the confines of his mind, desperately trying to convince himself that the feeling, the pull to protect, was driven by circumstance, not by desire.

  ***

  The pilot’s voice boomed through the airplane, shouting orders in Arabic. Abdul Hadi was on his feet in seconds, answering the man and waking the children. “We are going to land,” he said, as he pushed the children and Samira toward the two tiny seats. Samira held Athra on her lap, Zeid and Edham huddled together on the other seat, their slender fingers working quickly to fasten the seatbelts.

  “Will we be killed?” Zeid’s voice trembled.

  Samira placed her hand on his leg.

  “No. Now be silent,” Abdul Hadi commanded.

  The plane hit the ground hard, sending Beau and Suha’s body tumbling toward the front of the small cabin. Samira clutched Athra, frantically reaching for Edham’s arm. Athra’s wail competed with the screeching tires of the plane. Beau scrambled back toward them, crouching in front of Samira and the children, reaching his arms around the four of them and grabbing the backs of their seats, securing them against him. The plane lurched forward, then rolled swiftly to a stop.

  Beau’s heart pounded in his chest. His mind swam through the fear and the hope that swelled within him as he checked the children. The fear in Samira’s eyes was palpable.

  “It’s okay,” he reassured her.

  Zeid frantically tried to unlatch his seatbelt. Edham squirmed out from under the tether and climbed Beau as if he were a tree. Outside the plane, the tarmac was a flurry of movement. Armed vehicles rushed the plane. The pilot spoke fervently to Abdul Hadi, who had reached for a gun. Although Beau’s Arabic wasn’t perfect, he knew the command, “No weapons!”

  Abdul Hadi released the weapon. He spoke above the children’s sobs, “Soldiers will come. Do not be scared.”

  Zeid’s voice broke through his sobs in an accusatory, piercing scream, “American soldiers? Traitor!”

  Abdul Hadi glared at him, rising to his full height, looming above the child. “Know who your enemies are, boy!”

  Samira pulled Zeid against her side, silencing him.

  The pilot yelled down to the tarmac, “I have clearance!” His hands were raised high above his head. “Authorization, we have authorization.” He moved cautiously to lower the stairs. American soldiers were up the stairs, firearms ready, before Beau could utter a word. They grabbed the pilot and Abdul Hadi roughly by the arms, herding them down to the tarmac. A soldier grabbed Beau’s arm, shoving him toward the stairs.

  Beau shook himself free. “I’m an American photographer,” he explained, Edham in his arms, the boy’s gangly arms around his neck.

  Zeid hid behind his mother’s leg, his tough demeanor of only days before quickly forgotten, leaving him vulnerable, exposed.

  Samira’s body shook. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, holding Athra tightly against her chest. The soldier pushed them toward the exit. More American soldiers waited below, barking orders and asking questions too fast for Beau to respond. Beau tried to clarify the situation, but there was too much commotion.

  Abdul Hadi and the pilot were whisked away in an armored vehicle. An officer stepped from a jeep. Beau lowered Edham to his side, pushing the boy behind his leg, his hand remaining on the boy’s trembling shoulder. Beau’s heart rammed against his ribcage. He took a deep breath, standing tall, thrusting his chest forward.

  “What’s your name, son?” the officer asked.

  Beau’s throat swelled, from fear or relief he couldn’t decipher. He spoke his full name for the first time in months, “Beau Johnson, sir, American photographer with War Time Magazine.”

  The officer’s shoes were spit shined, the fabric of his jacket pulled against the thickness of his arms. He squinted, raising his eyebrow at Beau’s Iraqi attire, the blood on his shirt. He extended his hand and gave Beau a curt nod, “Colonel Larner, United States Army.”

  Beau reached for his hand. A young thin soldier stood by Colonel Larner’s side and spoke in a hushed and hurried tone, his words muffled.

  “Where did you say you were from, Mr. Johnson?”

  “I…Maryland, sir. Bethesda, Maryland. I was sent to Iraq by Mr. Hakim Fulan, president of War Time Magazine, to photograph the changes in family life since the inception of the war.” Beau began to sweat under the stares of the soldiers. He pulled Edham into his arms and took a step back, aligning his body with Samira’s. “There was a helicopter crash—”

  “Do you have identification, Mr. Johnson?”

  Beau shifted his weight, moving Edham to the other hip, “It was destroyed, in the helicopter crash. Everything was lost,” he said, then quickly added, “I swear, I’m—”

  Suddenly, Samira dashed toward the airplane screaming, “Suha!” Athra sobbed uncontrollably in her arms. In the space of a second, two large soldiers caught Samira by the arms. One of the soldiers ripped Athra from Samira’s arms.

  The child’s arms shot out toward her mother, “Ummi! Ummi!”

  Samira reached for Athra, fighting against the soldier’s steadfast grips. She spat in Arabic, “Let me go! Suha! Suha!” She twisted her body, tears streaming down her cheeks. Zeid punched at the soldiers’ legs, yelling harsh words.

  Beau snatched Athra from the soldier’s hands. “She’s trying to get to Suha, the dead woman!” he shook off the young soldier’s hand as they tried to restra
in him. He stared angrily at the soldiers that held Samira like a hostage.

  “She needs to see her! She’s not a criminal!” he turned toward Colonel Larner, “Please, sir, she’s scared, she has no one.” Beau’s biceps were being squeezed by two large soldiers, who’d replaced the younger one’s efforts. Beau knew he had no identification, he was dressed like an Iraqi, they had no reason to believe his story any more than they had to believe that Samira wasn’t some sort of terrorist.

  Colonel Larner motioned for the soldiers to stand down.

  Beau rushed to Samira’s side, grabbing Zeid’s gangly arm and pulling him away from pounding the soldier’s leg.

  “Sweep the plane,” Colonel Larner ordered. The soldiers who had restrained Samira rushed into the plane, guns drawn.

  “I swear, we’re not here to harm anyone. I am who I say I am. She’s just a mother, protecting her children.”

  Minutes later, the soldiers disembarked. “All clear, sir,” the shorter of the two men said in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. “As the pilot reported, there is one deceased woman, multiple gunshot wounds, nothing else.”

  Colonel Larner ordered three armed men to assist Beau, Samira, and her children back onto the plane.

  Samira sobbed, “Suha! I will not leave her!”

  With his arm around her shoulder, Beau leaned close to her and whispered, “Suha got us here.” Samira turned and looked at Beau, then collapsed into his strong embrace.

  Maryland

  Alice leaned across the white chaise lounge in her living room, motioning for Tess to come in close. “Want a drink?” she whispered. Before Tess could answer, Alice spoke over her shoulder. “Kev, could you bring us some ice water, please?”

  Tess rose. Alice pulled her down with a conspiratorial smirk. “Watch,” she said. It had been a month since Alice’s attack, and when Tess wasn’t with her, Kevin was.

  “You’re horrible,” Tess laughed.

  Alice shrugged.

  “You’re enjoying this!” Tess shook her head. “Aren’t you supposed to have some remorse over using him like this? Didn’t this…event…have any impact on you?”

  Alice looked down. “Yes, it had an impact! Jesus, Tess, how can you even say that? I cried on your shoulder for weeks trying to understand why it happened.”

  “It was days,” Tess said, then quickly added, “not that I’m judging you. I know you were scarred by what happened, it’s just that Kevin’s so sweet, and you’re using him.”

  “Who says I’m using him?” Alice asked.

  Tess watched Kevin filling two glasses with water. She thought of Beau and missed how they used to take care of each other. She missed his smile, the way he remembered to use one and a half Sweet ’n Lows in her tea instead of two. Sadness inched up her limbs, settling on her shoulders like a weight.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” she said to Alice.

  Alice waved it off, accepting the drink from Kevin, and touching his arm in a way that gave Tess pause. Kevin’s eyes connected with Alice’s and held them.

  Tess’s eyes grew wide. “Thank you,” she accepted the glass of water Kevin offered, and declined the coaster he’d offered.

  “I’m taking the trash down, Al,” Kevin said and left the condo.

  Tess leaned forward and whispered, “Okay, spill. What was that?”

  Alice stood and walked to the window. “He thinks he’s keeping me safe,” she said.

  “Alice, you can’t do this to him. He’s a nice guy. If you don’t like him—”

  Alice spun around, “Who says I don’t like him?”

  “Alice, it’s Kevin. You’ve never given him a second look. Don’t you think this is just a rebound? Someone to make you feel secure? A band aid?”

  Alice flopped onto the sofa. “Give me a little credit, Tess. I’m not an idiot.” She took a gulp of water and laid her head back. “I know I never gave him the time of day, but when Beau—” she swallowed. “When everything changed, and you weren’t talking to anyone, we became close.”

  “Close?”

  “Not like that,” Alice said with a glare. “It’s just, he’s, I don’t know, not like the other guys. Besides, I’m not sleeping with him, so he’s got no ulterior motive or anything. I actually like being with him.”

  “Do you guys even talk?”

  “Yeah, surprising as it might sound, we talk a lot—about everything.” She looked away, then back at Tess. “I told him everything. It just came out one night when you were out with Louie. I told him about all the men. Tess, I told him everything.”

  Tess’s jaw dropped. “No way.”

  “Way. And you know what? I feel so much better having told him. It’s like the attack, feeling so vulnerable when I thought I was so in control, it took away the façade, all that awful anger came rushing out that night.”

  “Oh, Alice,” Tess put her hand on Alice’s hand.

  “It’s okay, really,” Alice wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “He got it. He understood, and you want to know the best part? He didn’t judge me, he didn’t pry, didn’t get jealous or make me feel like a loser, or a slut,” she blushed, sat up. “He just listened. That’s it, listened, and you know what? It felt good.” She shrugged, “He’s been coming over ever since. It’s nice.”

  Kevin came through the front door, “Hey, Tess, how’s Louie? Have you told him yet?”

  “Told him what?” she looked at Alice out of the corner of her eye.

  Alice lifted her eyebrow, put her hands up in surrender.

  “Jesus, Alice.” Tess sneered.

  “Really? You can’t believe that I wouldn’t notice.” Kevin put a hand next to Alice on the back of the couch and mumbled under his breath, “There’s no hiding a basketball.”

  “As long as we’re coming clean,” Alice glanced at Kevin, who looked away, “I’m really sorry for not telling you that I was going to Beau’s memorial. I should have told you,” Alice looked down at her hands.

  Kevin sat down next to Alice, “Yeah, me, too.”

  The familiar smell of Kevin’s Old Spice stirred Tess’s memories of the four of them: Beau, Kevin, Alice, and Tess. Tess’s leg bounced, her chest constricted. She thought of their last night together as a group, the week before Beau had left, when they’d been playing the stranger game. Tess remembered the playful look in Beau’s eyes, the way he had spoken directly to her, as if she were the only person in the room—quintessential Beau. That night, Beau had chosen Louie as the target of their game, when his impending trip had tarnished the usual levity of the game.

  “Oh, no,” Tess said, interrupting a conversation between Alice and Kevin.

  “What? You sort of spaced out there for a minute,” Kevin said.

  “It all makes sense,” she said quietly, as if talking to herself. “This is a huge mistake.” Tess stood, heading for the door. “It was Louie, at Olazzo’s that night. Remember? The stranger game? Now I get it. I’ve gotta go.” She grabbed her purse and keys. “I can’t do this. What was I thinking?”

  Alice hurried down the hall with her. “Tess, what’s wrong? So what if he was the guy? What’s the big deal?”

  Tess pushed the elevator button, her face strained and tight, “Don’t you see? It’s a sign. I have no business being with him or anyone else right now.” She stepped into the elevator, “Besides, I think he’s married.”

  Tess climbed into her Prius and dialed Louie’s cell phone number.

  Louie’s enthusiastic voice greeted her, “Hey!”

  Tess clenched the phone, her voice caught in her throat. What on Earth had she been thinking? It was so obvious—the phone calls, the need to rush away at any moment.

  “Tess?”

  “I can’t do this. I can’t see you anymore,” Tess said and hung up the phone. The strange realization that it was Saturday came to mind. She’d be alone on Sunday once again. Tess leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and cried, ignoring the ringing of the phone.

  Germany<
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  Edham looked on with wide eyes as the convoy of armored vehicles moved along the road on its way from the airport to the army base. He began to speak in quick, excited sentences. His mother immediately shushed him, pressing him tightly against her ribs in the rear seat of the vehicle.

  Beau turned at the sound of the boy’s excited voice. Edham smiled, a rare sight over the past few days.

  Samira chastised Edham with a sharp whisper, her fearful tone did not go unnoticed by Beau. Edham’s face became somber.

  Zeid’s tiny jaw muscles worked furiously in tune to his clenching teeth.

  They rode the rest of the way in silence.

  ***

  Beau breathed a sigh of relief when the army base came into sight. Samira’s face hung heavily, her lips turned down at the ends, the soft curves of her cheeks indiscernible. She’d aged ten years in the past few days. Beau wondered if the hopeful wonder would ever return to her eyes. He reached over the back of the seat and touched her hand.

  “Samira?” he quickly realized she had to use the name she was given on her new identification, Ai’ishah. Their new identities were going to be difficult to remember. The children’s lives were forever changed. All that they knew was gone. They’d been thrown into a foreign world. Beau pulled back his hand, lowering his eyes.

  Samira raised her eyes, full of sadness. Suha’s death had left her empty.

  He reached over the seat again, and this time he took her hand in his. Using what he’d hoped was correct Arabic, he whispered, “Aasef. I’m sorry.”

  Tears slipped down her cheek. Athra reached up and touched the tear with her tiny index finger, then rested her cheek against her mother’s chest.

  Maryland

  Tess drove up the hill toward her home. Just as she turned into the driveway, a car flew past her.

  “Slow down!”

  Louie’s angry voice startled Tess. She climbed out of the car and spun around, looking for him. How had she missed his car, parked directly across the street?